


Infirmary Informed

by animarune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, HP: EWE, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote it 5 years ago okay, M/M, Oneshot, but like they're barely in it, definitely, even the title is shit, it's mostly Draco and Harry, it's sooo bad, omg, ooc draco malfoy, preslash, probably, this fic is so bad, when i was 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animarune/pseuds/animarune
Summary: Harry, to no one's surprise, is once again in the infirmary due to a Potions accident. Draco is forced to watch over the patients while Madam Pomfrey steps out. He, however, only has eyes for the Saviour.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written: March 22, 2012  
> Published: March 23, 2012 (originally to ffnet)  
> Writing Time: Two hours.  
> Re-posted to Ao3: April 4, 2017
> 
> Summary: Harry, to no one's surprise, is once again in the infirmary due to a Potions accident. Draco is forced to watch over the patients while Madam Pomfrey steps out. He, however, only has eyes for the Saviour.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything therein belong to J. I have not made, nor am I making any money off of this purely fan-made piece of fiction I wrote 5 years ago. You can bet that if I did own Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, they would have reconciled their differences at some point in canon and become friends.
> 
> Warning: I didn't edit this beyond checking for typos I missed before the original publication. What you have here is my 18 year old self's writing in all its dubious glory. Enjoy
> 
> (PS: I'm pretty sure the conceit of this oneshot is moot anyway? IIRC Harry explained all of this during his showdown with Moldyshorts, right? For the sake of my younger self, let's pretend I knew that and totally knew I was writing a slight AU What-If? situation, shall we? orz)

Draco stared absently at the Gryffindor table across the Great Hall during supper one night. (One night? All nights. Pansy never ceased to tease him about it.) This night, however, a certain raven-haired Saviour was absent. Another Potions accident had Potter in the infirmary. The blonde Slytherin lightly worried his lip without realizing it.

"If you're so worried about him," started Pansy from his left, "why don't you go to the infirmary and check if he'll be alright?"

Draco turned to her with a look that plainly said, "You're joking, right?"

"He can't hex you in there, not with the Dragon Lady present!" she assured him.

He continued staring.

Pansy huffed and turned back to her food, mumbling all the while, "Fine then, don't take my advice. Just continue on as you were- it's not like you resemble a devoted girlfriend or anything."

Draco glared at her. His death stare was sharply averted toward Blaise when he began laughing at her comment. "Oh but it's true, Draco, and you know it!" he cackled.

Draco sighed slowly through his nose before shaking his head and standing. He'd had enough teasing for one night. "I'll see you back in the Common Room," he murmured then quit the Hall.

However, the teen didn't really feel like returning to the dungeons just yet, so instead he wandered about Hogwarts sans destination. His feet apparently had minds of their own, and their own opinions to boot. And it seems they agree with Pansy's advice—for when Draco's thoughts next returned to the present, he discovered himself in front of the infirmary doors.

Mortified, Draco spun on his heal and made to leave when Madam Pomfrey suddenly burst through the doors.

"Ah! Mr Malfoy!" she addressed. "I'm glad you're here. I have to step out for a few minutes, and I'd appreciate it if you would keep an eye on the patients until I get back." The expression on the Dragon Lady's face left Draco no room for argument. "Just make sure no one else comes in and that they all stay in their beds."

And with that she was gone, leaving the startled Snake behind to wonder at his misfortune.

After heaving a disgruntled sigh, Draco straightened his shoulders and stepped into the infirmary.

There was a first year on the bed nearest the door with what looked like hives upon her green skin (Draco had to wonder what had happened there,) a third or fourth year boy a few beds from her on the other side of the room was sporting some bad burns on his arms, one of the beds further down had its curtains drawn to hide the occupant from view, and near the end...

Draco still wasn't sure on what had happened, or even how, but somehow Potter had ended up with a dangerously high fever and a really nasty cough. Slughorn had been lost and entirely unhelpful until Granger had ordered him to Fire-Call Madam Pomfrey immediately. Not even a heartbeat after he had done so, the woman had burst into the Potions class room, diagnosed Potter then brought him back through the Floo to the infirmary in a flurry of movement. Draco hadn't seen him since.

Until now, that is.

Ignoring the other patients in the infirmary, Draco quietly walked over to where Potter was fitfully sleeping. His face was a contradiction of colours: sickly pale yet flushed with fever. Every now and then, the Gryffindor would cough harshly or toss the blankets roughly from his sweating form—only to immediately pull them back up to stop his shivers.

Not really considering his actions beforehand, Draco pulled up a chair and sat at Potter's bedside. The other patients paid him no mind, and in return he only paid enough attention to them in order to tell if they tried to leave their beds. The rest of him focused on Potter's ragged breathing and quiet groans while the teen tossed and turned.

Not much passed through his mind as the blonde sat there, content as he was to simply watch Potter.

But then the Saviour's sleepily-irritated groans turned into desperate ones. Potter began thrashing around, mumbling incoherently, and his black eyebrows nit together in worry.

Startled, Draco jumped to his feet and approached the raven cautiously, wary of being hit by a flailing limb. But then the teen's mumbling turned into coherent pleas, and the raven realized Potter was having a nightmare.

The Slytherin cast a quick Notice Me Not charm around Potter's bed so the other patients wouldn't be disturbed or spy on them.

"No," moaned Potter. "Cedric—Don't! Let go! Have to save Sirius!" He continued with 'I'm sorry's and 'not my fault's. More and more names (Fred, Colin, Remus, Tonks…even Snape, much to Draco's surprise) passed from Potter's ashen lips as Draco tried to figure out how to wake the teen.

Then he suddenly stilled and whispered solemnly, "I open at the close—I am about to die."

Draco jolted at that, but he forcibly shoved it to the back of his mind to contemplate at a later date in order to concentrate. Finally Draco simply sat on the edge of Potter's bed and lightly shook the catatonic teen's shoulders.

"Potter," he called, "wake up. C'mon, Potter. Wake up!" Potter's words repeated themselves in the blonde's head and his breathing began to speed up in growing panic. I am about to die. Potter wasn't moving- "Potter!" he yelled, giving him a solid shake.

Nothing.

A sudden idea occurred to him then. Draco leaned in closer, hovering slightly over the prone form. "Harry," he quietly murmured. "Wake up now, Harry. C'mon, open your eyes. The war is over, Harry. It's alright."

The raven finally stirred, and Draco forgot to pull away before he opened his eyes. Killing Curse green blinked blearily in the light of the infirmary. Draco watched confusion flicker in those expressive eyes of Potter's before realization dawned. His too-pale lips pursed in a frown and unfocused eyes cast about the room, presumably in search of whatever had caused Potter to wake. Eventually his gaze settled on Draco.

Potter opened his mouth but said nothing for several heartbeats. Finally, "Malfoy?" he rasped.

"That is my name; I'm glad you haven't forgotten, Potter." Draco smirked vaguely. His heart was still pounding from the scare Potter had just given him.

A small, tired smile found its way onto Potter's face as he croaked, "How could I forget? How come you're here?"

"Pomfrey's got me watching the patients for her till she get's back," Draco answered honestly, seeing no point in lying. He'd have asked the same question if their positions were reversed, really.

"Did you wake me?" he queried, his pained voice laced with confusion as he reached for his glasses which were situated on the bedside table.

"You were having a nightmare, Potter," Draco answered without thinking. He hurriedly added, "It was annoying."

Potter didn't seem to hear the last, instead focusing on his mention of a nightmare. "I didn't scream, did I?" he grimaced.

"No…"

"What?"

"Did you really die, Potter?" Draco blurted unthinkingly and his cheeks burned from the sudden embarrassment.

Potter stared at him for a long, drawn-out moment before slowly nodding. Draco's heart clenched painfully tight at the admission. "My sacrifice shielded all those in the Great Hall that I died for that night from Voldemort's curses. I survived because he had killed the part of his soul that he had accidentally left in my scar." Then he tilted his head, contemplating his next words. "If it hadn't been for your mother, Malfoy… She asked me if you were alive, I answered her yes and she told Voldemort I was dead. Malfoy, if it hadn't been for your mother, I… Would you thank her for me, please? Next time you see her?"

Draco stared at the Saviour of the Wizarding World, a million thoughts and emotions swirling and whipping about his head as he tried to formulate an appropriate response to Potter's request. His mother had saved Potter? Potter had sacrificed himself? Potter had died? Draco felt the blood drain from his face. Potter had died! He was suddenly glad that he was already sitting on the bed, because Draco wasn't sure he'd have been able to keep standing.

It was the same reaction he'd had when the Dark Lord had paraded into the Great Hall with his Death Eaters—Hagrid carrying the seemingly lifeless body of Potter in their midst. Draco had nearly passed out, the despair that had constricted his heart was so great. Then only moments later Potter and the Dark Lord were circling each other in the middle of the Hall, Potter explaining just what had lead to the other wizard's downfall. Draco had never felt more relieved in all his eighteen years.

Draco swallowed thickly before managing a hoarse reply. "Why don't you thank her, yourself, Potter?"

Potter chuckled weakly before breaking into a coughing fit. When they subsided, he hummed, "If I see her, of course I will. But I'd like her to at least know that I'm grateful of the risk she took in lying to Voldemort." Draco nodded, acquiescing the point.

They were silent for a few moments. It was not uncomfortable.

Finally, Potter was the one to break it. "So," he trailed, "why are you still here, if you only woke me because I was 'annoying'?"

Draco turned his face away from the teen to hide the blush he knew was on his cheeks. "Better you than that fourth year or the first year over there."

Potter's reply was cut off by a loud yawn from said teen. He then smiled sheepishly at the Slytherin, an apology in his brilliant green eyes. Draco rolled his own silver ones.

"Get some rest then, Potter," he advised. Draco paused before adding, "That way you can replace Blaise as my partner tomorrow in Defense. That boy stares at Finnegan too much to pay attention to what spells he's firing off and where…"

Potter laughed tiredly but he seemed genuinely amused by Draco's observation. It made the blonde smile lightly in adoration of the raven-haired teen.

"You sound like you're trying to be rid of me, Malfoy," he started, "but you can't really leave until Madam Pomfrey gets back, right?" He chuckled again.

Draco pouted. "Shut up, Potter."

The Lion obeyed, but only because he seemed to be thinking something over. Draco noticed his eyes were drooping while Potter though, and his head would slowly sag just a bit before the teen caught it and straightened up again.

Smirking, Draco repeated himself, "Get some rest, you git."

Potter wrinkled his nose at the suggestion, but did indeed remove his glasses before settling deeper into the bed.

"Malfoy…" he started, only to pause. Draco watched him silently as Potter tried to sort his feverish mind. "I… I still have your wand, Malfoy… Do you want it back?" Draco gasped quietly at the question, his heart giving a small jolt. Potter gave a weak laugh before telling him, "If you remind me tomorrow, I have it in my trunk in the dorms. I fixed my Holly wand, you know…" Potter smiled brightly at that.

Draco merely shook his head at the teen.

"Malfoy… No," he stopped. Draco tilted his head in curiosity. Potter lifted a shaking hand in Draco's direction and said, "Hi! I'm Harry Potter!"

Staring at the Lion, Draco was utterly baffled. Had the teen cracked, just now? "Wha—?"

"It's nice to meet you…" Potter continued, and Draco suddenly realized what he was trying to do.

A warm feeling settled in Draco's chest. He clasped Potter's hand in his and shook it lightly, mindful of the teen's temporary fragility. "Draco Malfoy. The pleasure is all mine, Potter."

"Harry."

Draco smiled happily at the Lion's correction. "And in turn you simply must call me Draco… Harry," he tried.

Potter… Harry smiled. "Draco," he whispered, trying it out himself. His smile grew before he finally closed his eyes. Then, so quiet that the Slytherin had to lean closer in order to hear him, Harry asked, "Draco, will you stay with me for a while?" His tone was light and undemanding yet Draco felt compelled to listen.

Neither had let go of the other's hand. Draco liked the feeling of Harry's hand in his, even if his temperature was too high and his skin was left feeling a tad clammy.

"Why not?" he whispered.

And he watched over Harry as his labored breathing eventually evened out, their still joined hands resting upon the bed sheets.

Draco's heart was still beating heavily in his ears as he stared at the beautiful boy who had saved the world. With a deep breathe, his smiled happily and silently made a wish for his new friend.

"Sweet dreams, Harry."


End file.
